


Get Up To The Stars

by Tumble Down (tumbledown)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, rentboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbledown/pseuds/Tumble%20Down
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trick-- he could never call them johns, because John was his father, said in the slightly cracking voice that Bobby had-- was certainly interested. Sam only gave him a quick look, then flicked his gaze away. Most of them loved the hard-to-get game, the power rush they got by "persuading" the young man into their beds. Sam had learned it the same way he had learned everything in life-- observation and experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Up To The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Ecstasy" by Massive Attack. Stylized sex (AKA I can't write smut). Written back in '07.

He walked up, a bit different from the usual fare. The suit was bespoken, well-fitted, and hadn't looked as if he had slept in it. The creases in the pants could even still be seen, as if he had taken them off the hanger only moments ago. He was well-groomed, too, and didn't stink of alcohol or had that wild look in his eyes that told of a hidden meth habit. He was incongruous in the surroundings, a CEO that had gotten lost on his way home to his wife and kids and somehow had ended up at the entrance of the barely lit alley that hid some of the city's darkest secrets.

Sam didn't care. He had the air of money, but he had long since learned that didn't mean anything. The richer they were, the more they balked at high prices. He wasn't one of his brother's two dollar whores, though, and if they wanted him they had to pay. He wasn't entirely living off the money he made, there were always scams and pool hustling to fall back on; he needed it, but wasn't that desperate. Not yet.

The trick-- he could never call them johns, because John was his father, said in the slightly cracking voice that Bobby had-- was certainly interested. Sam only gave him a quick look, then flicked his gaze away. Most of them loved the hard-to-get game, the power rush they got by "persuading" the young man into their beds. Sam had learned it the same way he had learned everything in life-- observation and experience. John had been insistent on the first for both of them, and decidedly lacking on the latter when it came to his youngest son. It was a deep well of rage that still boiled over on occasion.

He came closer, close enough that Sam's breathing space suddenly became filled with his scent. Cologne that only enhanced the natural, and was just a touch too much out of arrogance; it was spicy and foreign. In the bare light from flickering neon signs Sam could see the European cut of the suit, the rich dark color of skin that was inborn. The eyes were light, a sharp contrast, and curious. Sam gave him another look, this one lasting a bit longer, then gave a quick look at their surroundings. Crowds and people so wrapped up in their own words, barely noticing the young man in a skin-tight navy t-shirt, boot cut jeans hanging low on the hips, worn black boots on his feet, wavy hair curling in waves around his devil-may-care face. The air was slightly cool, chilling his skin; he licked his dry lips and finally gave the man the long, interested look he was craving.

"For the night? The whole night?" The man purred, reaching out and gently touching Sam's chest almost reverently. "I am young still, full of life. It will be the whole night."

The accent was soft and purring, but had a slight edge to it that made Sam shiver. The man had confidence in his words, not needing to shout them to get the point across. He _was _young, Sam realized; maybe no older than thirty-five. The hands were a bit smaller than his own, and worn as if he hadn't been born into a suit. Sam smiled at him, a demure smile he learned from watching the others doing the same, and pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it to the man.

"I do not speak. Call me what you wish. The prices are set as on the back," the card said. The man flipped it over and read the list-- surprisingly long for a business card-- and gave a low whistle. Below the list was another statement. "If it's not listed, I don't do it. Fifty percent up front, rest afterwards."

The man smiled and handed the card back to him, which Sam quickly put back into his pocket. "I like the way you do business, sir," the man said. "Upfront and honest-- a rarity in both our worlds. I agree to the prices, I'm sure you will be worth it." He pulled out a plain leather wallet. "Benjamin acceptable?"

Sam nodded and watched as the man counted out ten of them and handed them over. Sam folded the money and put it in his pocket, then stood still, waiting. "Do you have your own place? No? Then come with me."

  


  
*******   


Oh, if only all tricks were like this. Sam would truly enjoy his "work". The man, who had yet to give his name, had insisted that they both bathe first. He was living out of a luxurious hotel suite complete with a Jacuzzi big enough to fit half a dozen people. Sam hadn't let himself get too distracted from his purpose, however, and had begun to wash the man, giving kisses on the chest of fine hair and down the man's neck as he gently washed the dark auburn hair. He let no place go untouched, gently washing and massaging the man all over. Once finished, he fully expected to be thrown into bed and fucked furiously, but the man surprised him by turning the tables on him and began washing Sam's body. He scrubbed and kissed, just as Sam had, but with feather-light breaths and a look of quiet awe that made Sam feel like he was being worshipped. He was heady now, his mind having floated off while his body reverberated with pleasure.

The man murmured in a language Sam didn't know or understand, but the tone was quite clear-- _beautiful_.

After the bath, the man had dried Sam off with same sense, then led him to main bedroom. Instead of the bed, he steered him towards the full-length mirror. "Look at you," he said. "_Look_. Ah, are you _David _or are you _Bacchus_? Some lustful cross, I suppose. Sublime, you are-- perfectly sublime," he said, his voice lowering into hot whisper against Sam's neck. He began kissing it, flicking his tongue out now and then as he ran his hands down Sam's chest. Sam bit his lip to bite back a moan and turned around in the embrace, then began maneuvering the man back towards the bed. The man sat down and moved back, until he was sprawled in the middle, those light eyes dancing in the lamplight. Sam made a show of crawling forward, like a wild cat on the prowl. He knew what he looked like, had memorized his body and its moods. He knew he was whipcord lean with broad shoulders and dark eyes that a previous trick had described as darker and richer than any chocolate on earth. He knew that he could make another human being tremble and gasp and even cry from pleasure.

He was going to do it now.

He kissed his way down the man's chest and abdomen, drawing close but never close enough. He let his hands hover just above the skin, a hair's breadth away, but never touching. He waited until the man gave frustrated moan, then repeated the effort. Once he had dissolved into a pleading whimper, he touched. Just barely, enough to make the man shiver. He finally gave wicked grin and set down onto the man's cock, which was weeping its own eagerness. A small flick of the tongue over the slit and a harsh breathing-in of air was the reply. He continued the little licks until they had become used to, then he hollowed his mouth and took the first few inches in suddenly. The man's hands were in his hair now, not pulling, but still tight and urging. Sam doubled his efforts immediately, bringing the man to the edge quickly. He stopped then, pulling completely back. The man's eyes were on him, and now they were _wild_, begging.

Sam gave him an easy smile and moved off the bed to find where his pants had been folded on the chair. He retrieved the necessary items and returned to the bed, holding them up. The man nodded with understanding; the show wasn't to be over just yet. This foreplay had lasted quite some time, too long to let the finale come so quickly. With great care the man sat up and took the bottle of lube from Sam, opened it with one hand that screamed practice, and pour the liquid on his hand. Staring Sam straight in the eye, the hand traveled down Sam's back to its goal. One finger slipped in with no issue; this wasn't Sam's first time, and it wasn't going to be the last, either.

Sam brought his face close to the other man's, as if it to kiss his lips; he didn't, wouldn't, but it gave the illusion of lovers that so many needed. He then let his head loll back as another finger found its way inside, stretching and searching. He didn't usually let the tricks prepare him, but this man certainly knew what he was doing. Experimentation? Sam didn't care, he too busy resisting the urge to fist himself to completion right then and there. He was in no hurry for it to end, but, oh, the _sensation_...

Another finger was in, and he knew for a fact the man was teasing him; they came close to what he wanted touched, but never actually _touched_. He rubbed himself forward, their cocks touching; the fingers froze within him as they both closed their eyes at the feeling. Sam opened his first, and softly pushed the man down onto the bed. He retrieved the condom and placed it on the man, no move wasted for show now. He moved forward, let his hands find provenance, and lowered himself to rapture.

It started slow, a lazy fucking, but their eyes met and Sam knew that both of them wanted it faster. He rose up and ground down with force; his thighs quivered, his breaths became quick and heavy. His pulse thrummed a violent beat as he aimed for that place of glory. He was on the precipice ready to fall, but it was his rule that the trick would come first. He added a bit of rolling hips to his thrusts and it was over, the man keening as he fisted the cloth beneath them. It only took a brush of his own hand against his cock to send Sam tumbling down, his come glistening on the man's sweat-soaked chest.

He fell forward on his hands, the angle arching his back and making them both twitch with aftershocks. A few deep breaths later and he lifted up and off, removing the condom. He found a box of tissues, wrapped it up, and then threw it in the trashcan in the bathroom. He returned to the bedroom with a lukewarm washcloth and wiped them both down. It wasn't a general practice of his, but the man had been exceptional to him. He could at least return the favor.

"Thank you," the man whispered, and Sam wasn't sure what it was in response to, the fucking or the washcloth. He decided it didn't really matter.

The washcloth was returned to the bathroom, then Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, a bit unsure. The man had said all night, apparently intended to pay for that, but he also looked exhausted. As if he could read his thoughts, the man looked at him and laughed, a strange, light giggle.

"Guess I'm not as young as I thought, or you're that good. I wonder, what could it be?" he asked slyly. Sam simply gave him the knowing demure look. "As I think, too. You're welcome to stay, if you wish, or you can go. My wallet's there on the dresser, take the rest. I would, but I do believe my body has become a complete pile of _goo_," he said. Sam couldn't resist grinning at his tone and stood. He honestly would like to stay, to spend the night, but he had to go.

He dressed, taking his time and giving the man another show, but he soon succumbed to sleep. Sam retrieved the spare blanket from the closet and laid it over him. He found the hotel stationary on the dresser as well, and scribbled a quick note before taking his monetary due.

_You're not half-bad yourself._  
  
He was tempted to make to add a sentiment to it or sign his name, but left it as is. He placed the money in his pocket with rest and left the hotel out of the back entrance. It wasn't until he was a few blocks away that he began laughing, the sound bubbling up inside him. He had on a dopey grin and knew he was still riding the high. He'd be back to normal Sam by the time he reached his own hotel.

  


  
*******   


"Where were you?" Dean demanded the moment he opened the door, surging up from the bed. Worry and anger warred on his face, until reserved indifference took over. Sam recognized the look as one copied from their father.

"Out," Sam replied, his voice a little dry from not being used.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not really, no," Sam said lightly, then held up the money he had earned. The man had been the only worthwhile trick that night, except for the family man who was looking for a quick blowjob. "Dean, I've told you. You have your scams, I have mine. The less we know about each other's business, the better. You _know _that."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said, taking the money and adding it the stash they kept. Sam had his eye on the future with it, but Dean's mind didn't go much beyond _today_. "But still, I don't like you out by yourself."

"You are the living embodiment of overprotectiveness," Sam muttered as he began changing into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. Dean eyed him with a grim expression.

"You're growing way too damn fast," he said. "Those clothes aren't going to last much longer."

Sam snorted and climbed into his own bed. "Go to bed already, Dean. I have school in the morning, remember?"

"English?" Dean asked as he, too, changed.

"Worse, Algebra II. Now go to bed before Dad comes and checks on us to make sure we're all tucked in and sweetly dreaming. Jerk," he added.

"Bitch," Dean said, then turned out the light.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm placing Sam at about 16/17, so over the age of consent in most areas. (Hence the subject talk at the end. I wanted to make that clearer.) I didn't warn for underage for that reason and to not give the ending away, but if you feel I should, let me know.


End file.
